There comes a time in every funny names aficionado’s life when you come across a person so well named, so compelling named you need to talk about it. This is one of those times.

I’m sitting in the Writer’s Cafe at a writer’s conference doing the “writerly-thing”—figuring out what session I’m attending next. Halfway down the the page, a session called “How Do I sell a Million Books and Never Leave the Author’s Cave?”

Carew introduced himself as a renaissance man in an age that lauds specialist. Wearing a cowboy hat, vest, large belt buckle on his blue jeans and cowboy boots, he spoke to our writerly souls—addressing a group of writers, an audience separated by large amounts of space like sage brush on the rolling prairie. Those of us hiding in the cave. Those of us creating our novels. Those of us rarely seeing the light of day. And he explained how to sell it—the stories, all while being an introvert. (Except I’m not an introvert).

He published his first book at age 21, an editorial cartoon anthology. By 23, he published his second cartoon anthology. Both became best sellers. Then his writing career took a hiatus.

He spent time traveling the world, worked in Hollywood, escaped Hollywood, traveled to his grandfather’s remote ranch in southern Arizona, embarking on his career as a cowboy.

While sitting on the back of a pick-up truck on the open range, he composed the story that would become The Legacy Letters.

As with all twists of fate, a friend of his couldn’t guide a tourist-filled trail ride, so he subbed in . . . wrangling his future bride.

His charismatic persona created opportunities for him. A book signing with the Naked Cowboy singing in Time Square. A book signing and interview on top of a volcano: Mt. St. Helens in Washington State. And the first ever book signing on horse back—the horse he married his wife on.

But that’s not all. In an era where 80 percent of all books bought in this country are romance novels purchased by women, he was invited to speak at the Romance Writer’s of America conference in New Jersey.

A cowboy set loose among hundreds of romance writers? Put on your spurs ladies you’re in for the ride of your life.

Dozens of ladies enjoyed his roping exploits. I want to read some of the scenes that moment inspired. 😉

Is that true? 80% is romance novels? I read a few in high school, but I haven’t read any since. Who knew? As for Carew Papritz–wow. Not your typical cowboy name. And I’ve met several cowboys. Sounds more like an Italian chef. Cashew Paprika. Caraway? Anyway, he sounds spicy. I read that he was born in Yosemite National Park. You gotta be outdoorsy, if that’s the case. I wonder if there is even one more Carew in this world.

Regarding the romance novels, that is the number presented at our writer’s conference. It may be more like 60 percent, but if you’ve ever seen a RWA (Romance Writers of America) conference, you’d understand the power, power, power of romance novels in this country.

I met Carew’s mom and brother at the conference, great family support. I’d wager he’s the only Carew in the country. And I’d bet his parents are where he got his outdoor spirit.

I have a hypothesis (not a theory, since a theory needs to be tested and meet the standards of disprovability) that men stopped buying “romance novels” when people stopped buying Playboy magazines (although I’m sure the proprietor of my local liquor and sandwich store begs to differ… yes, there is a liquor and sandwich store near a college campus – no surprise there!)

Haha, my point was that men never bought romance novels, and that women buy the romance novels for the same reason men bought Playboy. But men stopped buying Playboy, whereas apparently romance novels still have a strong following!